Ianto toyed with the change in his pocket as he watched the others leave, trying his best to ignore the silence descending on the Hub. He wished he was with them, not because he wanted to bang all their heads together and remind them how lucky they all were to have each other – although he did really want to do that – but because there were just too many personal ghosts in the quiet spaces around him. His eyes snagged on Jack’s office door. That space especially.

His shoulders slumped slightly and he felt the ache inside, right in the pit of his stomach, that left him feeling slightly sick. It was there most days, and always when he was in the Hub. This was Jack’s place, and it was empty without him, they all knew that. Ianto could still hear the echo of his laugh and the feel of those hands on his skin. They’d tentatively been starting something that had the potential to be something great when Jack had gone, Ianto was sure of it. And it may have been Gwen who’d sat by Jack Harkness’s side until he woke up, but it had been Ianto who had torn the place apart hunting for him after he’d gone.

Even when he’d realised that the hand in the jar had vanished, it had taken some time to convince him that Jack Harkness had gone on some kind of adventure without them – without him – and without even saying goodbye.

He stared at the office door and wished he could see the dark shape of the familiar greatcoat hanging on the other side. His heart ached. Jack Harkness. Where the bloody hell was he, and when was he coming back?

‘I think there was a storm over Cardiff, but I think the electrical part of it came in from the Rift, and the two mixed as they met. Maybe that storm was also the arrival of something alien.’

Jack frowned over at Gwen. 'Didn’t we check the storm’s readings at the time?’

'Don’t look at me.’ Gwen shook her dark hair. 'I was at home tucked up in bed with Rhys and we were whipping up our own electrical storm, thank you.’

Jack turned his attention to him, and Ianto felt his face burn as he stumbled over his words. 'We were here, but we were… busy.’

Jack suddenly grinned. 'Oh yeah, so we were.’

From the corner of his eye, Ianto could see Gwen looking from one man to the other, and he concentrated on sipping his coffee. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know about him and Jack, but it still felt strange whenever there was any open reference to it.

Gwen giggled, breaking the awkward moment. 'It seems like we all had our eyes off the ball, then.’

Jack flashed his best boyish smile. 'Or on it, depending on your perspective.’

The fire door opened and the constable who had been keeping an eye on the journalists at the main entrance to the station peered round the door.

‘Sorry to disturb you, sir.’ He looked warily over at Gwen before continuing. 'There’s a bloke at the front desk. Says he wants to see you.’

Cutler snorted. 'Tell him to join the queue.’

'I did tell him you were in a meeting, but he’s refusing to leave. I think he’s a bit hysterical. Says he’s that poof’s boyfriend. Says you spoke to him this morning.’

'That poof’s name was Ben Pritchard,’ Cutler growled, making the young constable visibly flinch and pull back slightly behind the safety of the heavy door. 'And as we’re as yet unable to tell his boyfriend who was responsible for ripping his loved one apart in a park, I suggest you start showing a little more respect.’

The constable’s face was beetroot. 'Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean anything by it.’

'And that,’ Cutler dropped the half-smoked cigarette and left it to die on the damp ground before letting his eyes slash through the man as they passed him, 'makes it worse.’